National Flint (Pirate Prussia x Reader)
by Eikis
Summary: During the 1600- 1700 Hundreds Pirates ran the land. The English navy could not do anything Failed to complete their goal of destroying the plundering sea men. We follow a English cabin boy And a German- Russian maybe... Captain running a War-ship, The Cabin boy later falls for a captivating woman Who is Fancied to be the Captain's late wife. (Crude language, Intercourse, and Gore)
1. Chapter 1

A smell of Drifting Cologne drifted over the rotting stench of alcohol and Unbathed English men. The Pub had a strange nostalgic look to it, It consisted of one large room and three off set polygonal molded dorms. Two windows evenly littered the front of pub on both sides of the entrance, Air commonly slipped under the little cracks of unfilled Sludge in the sill of the window. The breeze stopped around the first three tables to the right of the room, It didn't help with the reeking breath of Men, and the squeals of cheap Barmaids and wench. A lad no older than twenty three sat in the middle of the scene. He looked like a common fellow, nothing really excessive about him. He was on the skinny side, His hair was short and dull. Nothing about his eyes gave any emotion, The only care was his drink in his hand and the gun strapped to his right thigh. The light weight weapon sat above his Velvet breeches, The man was dressed for the pub for one reason. And one reason only. If he wasn't Dressed as well as he was he'd be shot in seconds, for a crime he was pulled into. He was not common sailor, he was not part of the Great British Naval Military.

**He was a pirate.**

He wasn't really a pirate, he was a Cabin boy. The lowest of the low, He got jobs worse than animal Excrete pickings. He seemed happy with the life of a Criminal, The Captain was rough and so where the seas. The beauty he sailed on, was not owned by him himself. The sea-maiden had been run By a man named Bellamy. They crewmates named him Black sam, Because he tied his thin long ebony lock slivers with a large red stain ribbon, Bellamy's hair was extremely long it went five inches down from the nape of his neck. Black sam was wealthy, He had loads of Riches. Under the rule of the Captain they had captured over fifty ships, they were on their fifty-third. And Black sam as usual had a Map, a Mug, and a Plan. Only the highest of the crew would attend the meeting in Black sam's quarters, They would come out and tell the others when the Black haired idiot of a captain was done talking. The ship had over one hundred members, close to One hundred forty The lad seemed to guess. He shifted his filthy Hand through the dead locks of hair that sat on his cranium. He sub-divided his mind again. The ship had a hull as big as a palace, It was often littered with stolen riches. Surprisingly the Black Bellamy was like the Robinhood of the sea, always such a generous man. Astonishing.

* * *

_Bellamy was one of his own, As far as The lad knew. He was born in a little town In the centered of England, He was the youngest. The cabin boy had heard rumors of him being in the Royal Navy, He had a decent pay for a young kid under the control of an English Admiral. But that all came to a shattering halt when Robin hood found a Wench. He went back to the Navy to support her, She had a child without him. And he left forever. The woman got Thrown in jail and waited for him, but he never came back... He was taken by a Spanish ship. It's said he became acquaints with The first mate, Edward teach. They must have split up along the road somewhere. Funny part is that both English man captured French ships, Says something about the Perfume wankers. That's about all the Boy knew about Bellamy. He was surely a character, usually you could find a smirk or smile on his face. He was good with the wheel and Better with a weapon. Tied to his waist was always his sword, he set it about four inches from his crotch on his hip. Between the belt and his expensive stolen clothes he slid four flint lock pistols, Always loaded._

* * *

The man knew his captain had close ties with some of the most feared Pirates ever, mostly friends of Edward Teach. There was Captain Vane, or Charles as his mistresses called him. Captain Roberts, Captain Low, and Captain Black Bart Roberts. He didn't know anything about the Captains or their lives, Crew or Women. Except for Vane, Everyone knew about Vane's mistresses.

The man Faded out of his Back flash. The Appearance of the bar had lessened, Men lay tuckered on tables. Beer, whiskey, and wine dripped from glasses and mugs sloshed the liquid the floor. Bar-workers tried to Clean things up. Wenches tried to finish the holding grip of sailors, from their bodies.

The lad continued to drink until a man put a hand on his shoulder, The lad looked up shocked. Who the Bloody Devil's hell just clawed his neck-line blades. The man scratched his neck and spoke in broken English. He couldn't really tell what he was saying. It was so choppy and the words slurred, Being Drunk as a German wasn't helping either. Funny being that the man before looked and Sounded German. The German man spoke again, this time a bit clearer

"Do- you know were... the rivers rans in Ocean?"

The cabin boy frowned, He couldn't even understand what the German had said. The accent was thick and the look on the German's face was frantic. It sounded like 'Doul yeh knew weere... Ze riavers rauns in aye Ock-ian' The cabin boy set down the ale he was drinking.

"I-I don't know of any oceans" He tried to lie. Gosh he was such a terrible Pirate. The 's' he tried to sound out slurred into a lisping 'th' as he stuttered for words for the German. It must have been an Urgent situation. A wench came by and groped the thigh of his leg. Ignoring the fae he looked at the German.

light sandy brown tied back to his neck with a strip of leather. Yellow-ish muddy brown eyes gazed at him. The German shifted, His weight as he looked at the Cabin boy.

"You-yo-u have too, your a-a-a " The German didn't say anything. He simply gave a look slapped a few English coins on a waiter and ran out the door.

"pirate!" A woman screamed and pointed to another being, A sharp pointed hat set upon the figure's head. An overcoat of sorts decked the person's Demla. The shadow charged at the woman her eyes increasing in width. She shrieked again, A tankard of Rum that she was holding cracked on the ground spreading chipped cheaply welded glass pieces over the rotting wooden floor. The barmaid Fell back, A glass piece pierced her hand. She winced holding the injured piece to her bosom. Tears filled her eyes, as the figure Pulled a gun from a belt sung against it's chest. It mumbled something, And turned away from the Mistress. The creature pointed a gun around. The drunken sailors gave looks of fear. A voice sounded out the cap pulled over his face was clear enough to make out a few features, The Figure had a face with a male look to it. His chin angled and his lips were full. His nose had a bit of a hook to it but evened out in the middle. He was well built, that was expected from a pirate. Muscles accumulated as he walked. His face was hidden well. He was fair skinned, A look of dumbstruck wonder hit the face of the German the cabin boy had talked too before.

The man that had pulled the revolver out of nowhere, had begun striding toward the German pirate. The German looked as if he was begging for his life. Which he probably was concerning a gun was pointed to the fairly lit hair of the German. The thickly build man, cocked the gun again. The bullets were sliding into place as he threatened to shoot the German.

"Wo ist das Schiff, Bastard du verdammt!" A look crossed the German's face as the man threatened him. The Figure sneered and screamed again, yelling in the German's face.

"Ich werde noch einmal fragen! Was geschah mit dem Schiff?" The man said something again, he continued to grip the German's collar. He shoved him back up the wall every time the brown eyed, fair skinned German slid. In the ill tinted light all the cabin boy could see was a stream of red water arching from the German's nose, He looked slightly light headed. The other man did not. He continued to beat and batter The German.

"Es sollte im Hafen zu sein, ich weiß nichts!" The hazel eyed German lad answered the figure, His body no longer trembling. He shoved the figure away, his legs were shaking.

"Get out-Get out, NO MORE GUNS. NO NO NO." A man charged into the bar. His greying hair, and slightly burnt skin made him a bit of an eye sore. He had a hook nose and a mole to the right of his left eye. The blonde-ish man only had one dimple, it defined itself as he spoke. He clashed parted teeth when he spoke.

"Štúp- English man, The port. The port where is it' The figure spoke, His voice slightly scratchy and thick accented. With something else. Sounded German, with a bit of a Russian slur. The Bar owner leaned on his Walking stick he had brought with him. He was an older man, The greys in his locks gave it away. The German-Russian tapped his foot impatiently.

"I- It's at the front of town. Near the- No. You there show Him" The older man pointed at the young Cabin boy. The fellow Pirate gave a shocked look. He scooted up from his chair and his tankard of Sludgy alcohol now ruined sloshed over his hand. The woman with the injured hand had pulled the glass out and began to sweep it up. He pointed an index finger to his chest. The old Bar owner nodded, As the Cabin boy walked past Sailors and the royal navy men They gave him looks of both fear and disinterest. The Cabin boy walked to the pirate, The figure stuck a fair skinned hand to the English lad. He clasped his hand around the Russian accented German, and they shook. The pirate opened the door quietly. He walked out to the smell of smoke, rotten flesh and gun powder.

The pirate looked over the cabin boy and smiled, The cabin boy fearfully pointed to port. The German-Russian nodded and spun off. Holding the brown eyed German's arm and pulling him along he spun down through the forest boarding the right side of port. A woman was struggling between to Large men as she tried to crawl away. Holding her bloody blown of leg. The men above her shot. Her blood leaked over the crowed paved floor of the English port town. People screamed and children cried over the dead bodies of friends and foes. Women being pulled in corners by men. A body of a Little girl lay in the center the road, her cranium had a bullet's shell cracked below it. The wound had bled. The red liquid poured from her head and lay in a pond around the girl. Her clothing had been already been ripped by plagued rats.

The Cabin boy hurried away from the burning buildings, His run had started to achieve what he thought he could reach. He slid around to the port His crew was panicking on board. The crawled up from the chipped boards, the ladder wasn't dropped. He screwed his hands around the tip of the deck and hoisted his body over it. He was covered in spit, ocean water, gun powder, bits of flour and blood. The crew gave him looks but continued moving on their way. A certain man looked at him with a hearty laugh.

"What t'e bloody 'ell happ'in taw ya?" It was a certain man he had seen before. The crew called him Bloody red, The man was extremely masculine Slovak. His muscles rippled Under his dingy ivory blouse and his tan velvet breeches. They had kidnapped him while Fighting a crew of French wankers.

"Germa-Russians, they were Germans. They burned 'dauwn t'eh English port." The Cabin boy sighed he threw his ashy cap into the water as the ship pulled away. He slipped a now clean hand between his burnt and fried locks. "They- I don't 'knaw"

Bloody red didn't smile he looked at him. He sneered, Bloody red had something against Russians. Black Sam Had a grudge against Germans. The Cabin boy shrugged holding his hand on his head as he slid down onto a sitting position on deck. Bloody red still looked at him, he asked a deeply Slovak accented question

"Did yaw cautch teh Cauptan's nume?" The Slovakian man asked brushing his dingy short black hair back with a darkly tanned Set of fingers.

"Nah, I jast sauw a bit ave 'is fauce" The cabin boy replied as he was sitting down on the ground of the ship. Bloody red looked at him. The slovak spoke again.

"Ruessiaun and Germaun you sauid, 'ave got oune Cap'en in Mund"


	2. Chapter 2

The cabin boy slid down onto the frame of the deck. The Slovak gave him a look of pretified horror. The Slovakian rubbed the back of his Sun-scored neck. The breeched Captain took a step onto the deck, His black swish of hair blowing in the English wind. The Captain gazed over at the foreign Man but said not a word.

" 'ey alright Twit, I guess I got'a Tell yeh. 'eh don't be spred'in no rumeers but-'lad's name is Beilschmidt. Gilbert Beilschmidt, Some Ger-g'rma... Russian captain 'mabi?"

" 'Whut mate?" The cabin boy blinked his half closed overies, the gentle flick of short pale English eyelashes. The cabin boy opened the lashes to find the 'Bloody 'ol Slovak glaring at him with a blank stare.

" 'Aye trap it cat!" A dark haired muscular man glared at the cabin boy, The 'lad himself knew of his current position. He had the image of a drowned cat, He began to raise himself From the chipping wooden blocks that created the deck. The Slovak said nothing and played with his hands, The scarred palms twirling around each other as the overly sun sorced skin. The lobster tinted skin, was rubbed over with burns as the man rubbed over the raw piece of bodily object. The slovak turned to see the Captain struting on his raised deck top, The top of the deck held his cabin above two other stories of the ship. The cabin boy was currently on the lowest deck.

"Grub 'ye mop cat... Some'thin is 'gonna be pour'd 'ova the deck" The slovak stuttered as he pushed the young English boy to the Half broken splintered deck mop by the ship's framing.

" 'Kay red" The cabin boy crawled in an allegro fashion toward the Broken mop, His fair lit English inheirited lock hanging over his young face.

" 'Gow boy! 'Ran! 'aure the 'bleaudy 'Crew will 'getcha!" The slovak hissed pushing the boy shoving him toward the mop, The bucket of sea water spilled as the boy tried to strip into less "socially acceptable" atire. The slime slipped into the singes of the deck as the crew ignored the strange, old liquid. A man stood beside the English captain now, his red hair tied up. His body was pudgy, he had a merchant's swagger. The man Carried himself well, The captain shrugged as he gripped the man's shoulder.

The man sighed as he watched Robin hood fish out a horse whip. The horse tool ripping the skin off of the man like a whip, The crew was waiting. They were all waiting for the moment the captain would strike him. The red haired man paused, waiting. Always waiting. The longer you wait, the more eagerness and uncomfortable nervousness would set into the mindset of man.

The red haired man waited.

And waited.

Black 'robinhood did not strike him.

No.

Scratch that, the cabin boy thought.

He must have, all the cabin boy saw was the body of the merchant slam into the lowest deck avoiding the others less that hair lengths. The merchant tumbled, his body breaking. His organs spilled over his Dressed atire.

His expensive attire.

The cabin boy stopped his embroidered vest and hand, and in the other a mop was held.

He panicked.

Should he mop or wait, Waiting would cause the man to bleed more. The merchant's neck snapped in an akward position. Men of all shapes turned. Spainards gasped, Nordic generations held to each other whispering in Polish voices. The Nordic men that had taken had not been long ago, In a port in India. The Indian port had been housing viking like piraters, They had a common knowledge of drugging. They could have been useful, they were less useful on Black Bellamy's ship than they would have been on most ships.

"Slovak"

" 'whut 'ed?" The slovak asked.

" 'wet do I do with 'im?" The cabin boy questioned, tossing a hand through his hair.

"No idea mate"

" 'Ye knew some'in?" The slovak reached for the cabin boy.

" 'Whut mate?" The cabin boy said pulling away from the brokne oozing man on the deck, Droping the mop in hand.

"I say, we ditch the 'ol ship, And get 'own with 'wha is 'up with 'Beilschmidt" The slovak rippeled a middle aged grin. " 'aye hear, he's to be Enga'ged with 'the 'preddiest 'lassie in 'aul of 'Europe"

" 'Aye were'u hear 'at 'ol 'Dawg" The cabin boy shrugged the man looping arm off of his shoulder blades.

" 'Aye little 'birdie at 'a 'Taven 'old me" The slovak shrugged licking his lips with a sexual hunger.

" 'owh yea?" The cabin boy challenged.

" 'Yea cat, maybe 'yewl get a 'lassie of 'yer own" The slovak nudged him. "Unless your 'ill think 'lassies 'ure not 'important, Like 'hat wen who 'ancied ya at 'the bar." The slovak laughed recalling the memory of a prostitute flirting with the uneasy cabin boy. The cabin boy recalled the scene as he pushed the woman away by her own bust, the woman scowled at him and smacked him across the jaw with a well set hand. The cabin boy remembered the feeling of pity as he layed on the floor the mark of a woman's scorn layed on his face.

" 'Ya even 'knew 'ere Beilschmidt is 'mate?" The Cabin boy scowled at the slovak, crossing is lankey and scrawny arms across the twin arm.

" 'I told 'Ye a 'little birdie told 'meh!" The slovak grabbed the boy's head and fisted his large sun burnt palm scrapping the lad's 'noggin.

" 'So 'what 'wen 'Reddy-boy!" The cabin boy screached out loud trying to playfully remove the slovak's muscular arm from his cranium.

" 'Oi it's the next port 'we 'lund at 'Boy!" The slovak screamed back, taking his other arm around the cabin boy's neck, holding him as he drug his nuckles against the pale short haired boy's locks. " 'Yewl find 'awt, when 'we get 'there!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**(A.N. Sorry readers, I think you have been waiting long enough for the introduction of yourself. So you are in this chapter. It is fairly short my dearest apologies, but like some of you it's A.C.T break or A.C.T testing. So I have that on my plate, I hope you enjoy the chapter and all feedback is lovely. Comment, favorite, following me ext... Enjoy)**_

The cabin boy slid against his cot, the day had rushed by like nothing. The last memory he had was of him and the Slovak slapping arms and speaking of the embarrassing tavern scene. The image played into the cabin boy's mind, The woman slapping him. A whore slapping him, across the face. The flithy hand striking his pale English skin. The cabin boy couldn't say much he didn't mean to thrust her away by her own bossom that's just the way it happened.

"'Ey turn off the 'anterns ya bunch 'a Scallies!" A man with brown hair pulled back into a braid of delicate lock twirling called out to the men in the smaller cabin the lad was sitting at. The boy twisted his footings around in his boots the cot he was laying on wasn't a cot. It was a cheaply made woven "blanket" of sorts. The blanket reminded the cabin boy of his old home in England, peaceful times. less than Much before the Newest king had taken over, The german king. He believed he was german, Perhaps from the Austrian replublic. The Cabin boy thought of it useless to ponder of a king's ethnic group even if he was hunting his boat down by the mast to the poles. The boy layed down farther into the cot and twisted his frame not just his footings in his boots, his side scratched against the wooden carvings into the boat. The ship, that was his home. Bellamy hadn't even asked him to agree to the pirate code. The boy could only read to about a young boy's capacity, perhaps a fourteen year old's reading skill. Something along thoose lines. Bellamy, sleep. The boy didn't want to ponder of Bellamy's doings. Bellamy didn't concern him.

"' n'ght 'scourges" A man layed down next to him the unsoft material brushing and rubbing their skin as the fabric bended. The fabric, the weaving slipping against the other man's woolen perhaps cotton shirt.

A woman sat in a chair, a cup of something lifted to her salt dried lips. The liquid wasn't helping, bitter. It was bitter. It wasn't helping her situation the oblique liquid poured down her throat. The woman adjusted in the chair, Her eyes flickering as a candle was extinguished.

"You're back I guess"

"Yes"

The woman adjusted in her chair again, feeling uncomfortable. The man twisted in the doorway removing himself from out behind the door. His hands sliding over the hard salted door frame, He passed it humbly sliding towards the woman. Her eyes gazing over him, his face. She hadn't seen him in two days, A little blonde haired boy sometimes brought her food and tea or coffee. Only sometimes, He was a European child, Though she knew he was not German. She could not pinpoint his own ethnic group. She grasped the cup a little harder as the man slipped like a snake into the cabin. He gave her a look as he tossed his hair. Gently she swiveled her hip adjusting her skirt, She crossed a leg over the other. The man said nothing else. She took this to her own advantage.

"Why am I here?" She asked.

"W-hy?" The man repeated unknowing of the term. He gave her a naive childish look from where he stood. He could barely understand the simplest of sentences, and she loved to use it against him. Even though the thought of him sent shivers down her body and through her bones, the thought of toying with him. It honestly, it honestly well was the most fun thing she had ever had since being with him.

"Why, or should I say- Warum sie hier?" The woman tried a term she had heard the little boy use.

"est dur junge... sie warum... nitchs" That was all the woman could pick up from the man's strange dilect. The terms of his language where harsh and made her uncomfortable, she didn't know what to say. She used the term again.

"Warum sie hier" She asked.

"Ehefrau" The man replied.

"Warum sie hier!" she yelled

"Ehefrau von ihm" the man replied.

"Warum sie hier!" The woman screamed at the man, clutching the cup in her hand.

"Auf" The man made a horse nose as he left the screaming woman to herself, the man turned and took the empty cup from her hands. Remembering she would probably cut herself to pieces if she was permitted to have it.

"Dirty filth barge" the woman yelled pounding on the door, the locked door.

"OPEN NOW!" The woman screamed more shoving the chair to the ground as she stopped pounding on the door.

"LET ME OUT! WARUM SIE HIER!" the woman screamed gibberish of what she thought was German.

"b-bast-" The woman cut off her words as she slid down on the door as her wrists had splintered. She brushed the bottoms of her lower teeth across her top.

"I hat-hate Ger-germans..." The woman put her bruised hands too her face.

"Gut, Ich ben nicht Deutsch"


End file.
